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by polandspringz



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe- Post-Canon, Future Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post canon, identity crisis, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 10:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20190565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polandspringz/pseuds/polandspringz
Summary: Four years after their victory, Beacon is rebuilt. New students will come and go, things are to move forward not as if the Fall never happened, but it has faded behind them in way of a new path.Inside his tower, the headmaster watches and recalls howhisworld has changed since that day the Gods returned.





	Home

It was nice, being able to breathe again, he bemused.

At first, it was hard to believe that only a few years had passed since a conflict lasting several millenniums had ceased. Although _he_ had only been involved in it for a little more than a year when it closed, he had seen through the memories of his other half how many had died in this struggle, how many left this world thinking it was all for a noble cause. He too had once thought that, growing up with tales of huntsmen and huntresses, but now, he knew they had just died in ignorance, due to a lie an old part of him had spun.

His hands tightened into fists at the thought of those men and women he had deceived into going into battle.

_It wasn’t you, _he reminded himself, _it was never **you**._ That was something he found he was never going to grow accustomed to, he thought. The reality that his other half was gone.

When all the relics had been brought together and their mangled together team stood as the only line of defense between the world and the frightening unknown rushing across the universe greet them, he stood tall on his shaking legs. The soul inside of him quivered and yet remained deathly still, panicked that this would fail, that somehow they had missed something and everyone, including himself would be vaporized. Even if Salem died then and there, her wish would come true, complete and utter destruction.

That was why, when the gods appeared and smiled down at Ozma, he fell to his knees and wept.

A hand was offered to him and the Brothers told him-

_“You have done your task well. You have done nothing but good on this planet.”_

_“Forgive us.”_

He remembered his friends surrounding him, supporting his weight as he held a hand from each of the Brothers and- _gods how he tried not to openly beg- _asked if he would at last be freed, if he could rest. He knew he had accepted this job willingly but he was so very tired and he just wanted to-

_“Didn’t you realize it? Ozma left this world long ago.”_

_His legs grew heavier and he fell against Ruby, an apology somewhere in the back of his mind as he knew she was still bleeding badly. He shouldn’t be leaning on her, she should be sitting down, getting bandaged, healed- He should ask the God of Light to-_

_“What are you talking about? He’s- I’m- Ozma has been reincarnating for centuries! You gave him this mission! He’s been waiting for this day so he can be set free. Are you going to let him keep suffering even now-”_

_“My child, you are mistaken. Ozma we did task with this mission but-”_

_He still remembered the chill that ran down his spine at their next words._

_“You are no longer Ozma, are you?”_

_“I don’t… I don’t understand. How did I see everything though? How did I know everything about Haven Academy when he came to me in the farm? How did I know what Beacon looked like? Leo! Glynda! Ironwood! We fused! Our souls we were likeminded he said-!”_

_“That is correct. However, the last time the body Ozma shared fell…. He came back to us. Not all of him, but pieces at a time.”_

_The God of Darkness waved his hand and the wound on Ruby’s leg closed up. His brother and him helped pull Ozma away from the group so they could hold him properly._

_“We know you must be tired. You had to learn so much in such a small amount of time.”_

_He felt empty. He didn’t understand. He stared blankly at the ground, eyes wide as he tried to take in something, anything that would bring clarity._

_“He was there though. I’m not crazy! He’s there! We could trade places and speak and-”_

_“My child, no one ever said you were alone.”_

_“But… But who else-”_

_“Don’t you go by a different name besides Ozma?”_

He took a sip of his coffee and looked out the large window, down on the campus grounds. It was the second day of the new semester. Students were running around the cobblestone pathways, a huntswoman with graying blonde hair tapped a crop against her palm as she spoke sternly to a group of first years, covered in food from the cafeteria splotching their uniforms. He smiled over the edge of his mug.

The gears built into the tower clicked and turned behind a pane of glass beneath his feet. It would never be quite the same as what he recalled from his days at Beacon, but it brought him some comfort. Closer to a piece of him he was thankful to have gotten to know even if it was so late in their life.

_“I…”_

_It was the students who spoke for him. He heard one of them gasp, and then Weiss whisper-_

_“Ozpin.”_

_“But he- I thought he was left behind and Ozma had-”_

_“We can read your soul as clear as day. Ozma, the only piece he passed on to you and him was his mission. It seems... It seems that he felt that he would weigh you down.”_

_“When the pieces started coming,” The God of Darkness said, “he told us what was happening. He claimed you were too innocent, too pure. He was never good at teaching, but his other self would be fine.”_

_“He asked us to forgive him, and it was then we considered coming back but… the last piece that came to us, it told us to wait. He had left everything behind with the two he trusted the most.”_

He was drawn out of his thoughts for a moment by his scroll buzzing on his desk. He walked back and set his cup down, circling around as his hand brushed the surface. This had been salvaged from the fall, at the very least. He had witnessed many things in a room just like this one, looking out his window or from the bickering of his inner circle of trusted colleagues, but this was _the desk _where he had sat and stood behind observing it all. His palm jumped from the glass to pick up the small device. The glass had to be replaced, but the frame was the same. Old but sturdy. It was still good.

A message from a truly dusty old crow by this point. He grinned down at it and felt his face pull at the smile lines. He was still trying to get used to being an adult truly, he had no right to feel older than his guests that were on their way. 

But, it was nice that after everything, his friendship had managed to survive.

_He was pulled away from the two suddenly. Warm, strong arms came up to wrap around him, tugging his smaller frame up so he was on his toes. His head was cradled against the neck of someone with coarse, rough stubble and the faintest hint of whiskey that seemed baked into their clothes. One part of him melted into the embrace of what felt like a father. The other part stiffened and froze, still believing it too good to be true._

_“Oz…” The gruff voice hummed, and he could hear the man swallow with guilt before that deep voice broke and the hug was tighter now, “I’m sorry.”_

_More bodies circled him. They placed a hand on him and smiled, their eyes warm and shimmering with tears. It was over. It was over. Everything was okay and-_

_It felt nice to be loved again. _

“We’re in this together, old friend,” he chuckled to no one in particular, “You know that better than anyone.”

He slid the scroll into his pocket and walked slowly towards the window where he watched for a few more minutes. Arms folded behind his back, the suit jacket stretched uncomfortably, but he was growing used to looking this professional. He had managed to survive giving a speech at the opening ceremony, at initiation, when explaining missions. Dressing the part was just as important in these times of recovery.

After some time had passed, the elevator to his office dinged, and four people walked out. He could hear the difference in each of their strides, something unchanged since their childhood. Warmth began to blossom within his chest.

Miss Xiao Long’s footsteps were heavy and sudden. He could hear her cracking her knuckles and Ember Celica’s bullets rustling around.

Miss Belladonna’s walked forward with certainty and her head held high. From her heel to her toe, she took long steps forward with minimum noise.

Miss Schnee still had some proprietary built into her, but the most notable detail was her high pitch voice shushing their leader for making a joke at what she thought to be an inappropriate time.

And Miss Rose. Her boots made a flat, solid sound against his glass floor as walked a little bit quicker to stand a few feet in front of her team. He heard her take two extra steps before her feet settled in a stance she was comfortable with, and then he heard her messing with Crescent Rose.

“Ruby, you shouldn’t take it out when we’re in here!”

“Yang always has her weapon out though. It’s fine, besides, I want to show off my new upgrades.”

“Let her be, Weiss.”

“You could wait a moment longer though. He hasn’t even turned around to greet us yet.” Blake’s voice smiled with the word as she stopped the bickering. The clanking of metal stopped at that, and he waited patiently for them.

That was a lie, he was busy composing himself.

“It’s nice to be back here,” her voice rang with that childish squeak even now. It brought a smile to his lips, “I told you that coming here was my dream. We didn’t get to spend much time here but… I know the new students will have the time of their lives under your guidance.”

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckled, “I think we all could agree that any repeats of our adventures together would be undesirable.”

He kept his eyes towards the sunset. Somehow, it had gotten this late in the day already. That would explain why Dr. Oobleck and Port were ushering students back towards the dorms now.

“So, we finished that last mission you left for us,” Ruby continued, her boots squeaking a bit as she fidgeted around.

“Could’ve given it to us in person though,” Yang scoffed, but it lacked any bite.

“Now, now. Where’s the fun in that? You were scattered all over with recovery efforts. I didn’t want to take up any of your time for something so minor,” he chided.

“If a friend calls for us, it’s important.”

He hated to admit how much his soul shivered at those words.

“You know that, don’t you? Headmaster Ozpin?”

He managed to straighten his back and push the glasses up so they sat properly on his face (not that he really needed such small spectacles anyway). Slowly he turned around, and gave the four women a smile as the orange sun burst through the window and cast their figures aglow with such warmth.

“It is good to see you again, students. However, I hope you know that these days, I am more Oscar than anyone else.”

Ruby merely tugged something off her belt and tossed it towards him. He caught the cane easily in his hand, the motions mastered for centuries as it soared through the air in his hold, opening up with a click of a button and extending before touching the ground lightly. His hands folded over top of it gingerly. Behind silver hair, eyes swirling green and orange reflected thankfulness as he bowed his head. A green glow washed over him before it fizzled out. Oscar’s eyes remained unchanged, except for the hint of extra fondness that seemed to smile within them as he spoke.

“Although,_ he_ would like to thank you for… for not forgetting him.”

The four of them looked at him with gentleness. Ruby walked forward and cupped his cheek. She was shorter than him now, but she gave him a motherly gaze as she ruffled his hair.

“You’ve done so much for us. It’s the least we could do.”

“I’m sorry,” he confessed, looking away.  


“Don’t be. You’ve done so much to make everything _right, _I don’t want to hear another apology until the _two _of you are gone.”

“Hopefully that’s not before you, Miss Rose.”

“Oh knock it off,” she lightly slapped the side of his head, “You wouldn’t want to stick around when I’m old.”

“Yeah, she’s going to be another Maria,” Weiss snorted, crossing her arms.

“Well, students-”

“Huntresses,” Blake corrected, to which the man smiled.

“_-Huntresses, _yes. I have another job for you, although it might be a bit too much for you to handle. It’s a bit of a permanent position, and you won’t get to travel that much as your used to, which might be a downside but I assure you there are benefits to-”

“We accept.”

He stuttered, “Are you certain? I don’t want to bog you down with something-”

“You already asked JNPR about it, right? We heard on our way back from the Spring with _that,” _Weiss pointed at his cane.

“There’s still Grimm and people who need help. We’ve had our fair share of adventure, it’s time for someone else to take up the mantle,” Ruby bubbled, and Oscar scanned the group for the consensus. Yang knocked her fists together, flaring up Ember Celica, Blake reached behind her to grab the hilt of Gambol Shroud. Weiss lifted Myrtenaster and crossed it over her chest, inspecting it for a moment before she smirked at him and tilted her head. Ruby picked up Crescent Rose and gave him a fierce, determined gaze from underneath her fringe.

He smiled, “Very well. I’m happy to hear the four of you ladies will be joining us-”

He had circled back towards his desk, but he was stopped by the clatter of metal on the floor and then he was attacked by the arms of the four girls, pulling him back down to the floor into a large hug. He saw their weapons in a heal a few feet away from in between the arms that were circling his face. 

“Now, what’s all this for?” He asked, trying to hide the stunned feeling making his heart flutter.

“For you, Oscar. For you,” Yang said. She was the tallest, and sitting up on her knees, she tucked his head underneath her chin as she looked towards the window.

“And Ozpin, but mostly you. We know that we’ll reach at least one part of you,” Ruby chirped as she loosely hung her arms around his waist, leaning against his side. Weiss was trying to hide the blush on her face as she kept glancing away.

“There’s four of us, so we thought-”

“Two for each of you,” Blake interrupted, “If all four hugged you, then both parts of you would get two hugs.”

The cane slipped out of Oscar’s hand momentarily as they pressed in closer, he caught it but his grip was loosening.

“I… I don’t-”

He didn’t know what to do. He had never felt this much-

“Don’t say anything. We told you, we’re your friends, okay?”

The cane clattered to the ground as it rolled out of the way of their feet, joining the pile of weapons in the center of the room. The eighteen year old waited one beat, then two- before he felt his tears began to pour he pressed his face against one of their arms and wept. He inhaled the familiar scent of Weiss’s hair, felt Ruby’s hand combing through his own. Blake’s nose touched his neck as she sang softly to him. Slowly, as the tears began to fade, exhaustion overtook him and Yang helped lower him down to rest his head on her lap, and surrounded by the four girls, he shut his eyes and blinked away the last of his years of tears.

And at last, his soul was whole.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a discussion with a friend and [this post](https://soulbvrden.tumblr.com/post/186472056657/okay-so-what-ive-come-to-realize-upon-discussion) she made! We both want Ozpin to come back in someway, and since the characters keep referring to the soul inside Oscar as Ozpin (not Ozma) I fully believe that however the souls fuse, much more Ozpin has remained than Ozma. I also made [this post](https://polandspringz.tumblr.com/post/179736281178/i-think-what-makes-ozpin-this-episode-such-a-sad) about my opinions in Volume 1-3 about when we see Ozpin vs. Ozma speaking.
> 
> Overall I just love Ozpin and want the team to give him a well deserved hug. Oscar too.


End file.
